


Five Times Olive Knew Exactly What To Say

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Winter Song (Music Video - Sara Bareilles)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Getting Over a Bad Breakup, Hurt/Comfort, Longing, Misses Clause Challenge, Pancakes, Pining, Romance, Snuggling, Winter, cocoa, fireplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olive is in love with Violet, but Violet is still longing for someone else. So Olive decides to put her feelings aside and to just try to be the friend that Violet needs. </p><p>Mild angst, longing, cuddling by the fire, stereotypical winter activities, mild sarcasm, romance, and friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Olive Knew Exactly What To Say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eirenical (chibi1723)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi1723/gifts).



> 1\. The video this fic is based on can be seen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UkOKCWDJ4iA. The names "Olive" and "Violet" are made up.

1\. Violet opened her eyes. She was warm still, under the quilt, but her foot was sticking out and the air was cold, sharp.

She didn’t want to get out of bed.

Maybe she wouldn’t today. 

She curled her knees to her chest, bringing her feet well within the bed’s radius of warmth. She closed her eyes and considered.

Getting up. Taking a shower. Making breakfast. Eating breakfast. Figuring out what she should do today. Resigning herself to not getting any of it done. Telling herself to stop thinking about her ex. 

Spending all day thinking about her ex anyway.

Bed. Bed was definitely a better option. 

Maybe she would take a nap and have one of those dreams where she has everything she’s ever wanted. 

Doubtful. Last night she dreamed that she was stuck under a heap of snow. In her dream, she struggled, but not enough. 

So maybe not a nap. Maybe just lying in bed. There was that moment when you were just falling asleep, that halfway threshold space between conscious and not. Maybe she could figure out how to linger there, how to be half herself all day.

She felt a hand then, soft across her temple, sliding her hair out of her face.

Olive, her roommate and best friend. Right now, the only person who didn’t find her moping presence annoying. 

“Feel like getting up?” Olive said with a sympathetic smile.

“Not really.”

Olive rubbed Violet’s shoulder lightly over the quilt. “I solemnly vow not to tell you to cheer up, move on, get over it, or any variation thereof.”

“You never say things like that,” she answered with a small smile. It was true. Olive had never made her feel like she needed to feign happiness.

“But I’m not above manipulation,” Olive said with a disconcerting smirk.

“What?”

“I’m making pancakes. Gingerbread pancakes. With dried cherries and dark chocolate chunks and caramelized almonds in them….” She grinned, cocky with her presumed victory.

Violet rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling back. 

Gingerbread pancakes did sound… worth the effort of getting out of bed. 

She took Olive’s hand and let herself be pulled up out of bed, the nest of blankets falling on the bed behind her.

The air was still cold. But she pulled on a sweater and headed to the kitchen with her friend.

 

~~~~~

2\. “You’re warm,” Violet said sleepily as she snuggled in closer to Olive. Her head was resting on Olive’s shoulder, and Olive’s hand was wrapped around Violet’s waist, her ring finger resting on the cool inch of skin between Violet’s sweater and jeans. 

The fire was crackling, loud and sporadic like ice fragmenting on a sidewalk. They were drinking mugs full of dark, thick hot cocoa, laced with cinnamon and hazelnut syrup. They were curled up on the couch under a blanket, an amorphous sea of pink and beige and blue. They were cuddling, hugging really, surrounding each other with warmth.

Basically the perfect night, Olive thought with irony.

But this wasn’t the time to think about what she couldn’t have. She was here to comfort Violet, not to pine for her, and definitely not to get bitter and act like a crappy friend.

“I’m out,” Olive said, gesturing at her empty mug, “Do you want some more?” 

“Still have some,” Violet answered. She sipped from her mug again, a tiny taste, as if she were afraid to let the cup run out. 

“Want to go to the bookstore tomorrow?” Olive asked. 

“No. That’s where we used to hang out. Every time I pass by that place….” 

The ex. Violet was afraid to go to half the places in town. 

“Yeah, of course.”

Violet sighed. “I know. It’s been months. I should be over it.”

“Nobody thinks that.”

“Everyone thinks that. But you. I mean, _I_ even think that.”

“I get it,” Olive said softly. 

“It’s like, you look at your life,” Violet confessed, “And you know you should stop caring. But… you also know you’re never going to get what you want. You’re never going to get what you hoped for. And that’s a hard thing to just accept. It’s hard to just get over it. You know?”

Olive kept very careful control of her expression.

Violet continued, “It’s like, you would do anything to just hear the person you love say that they love you back, that they never want to let go of you. But it’s not going to happen. You’re never going to have that.” She sighed and nuzzled closer to Olive, her voice cracking. “I’m tired of hoping for things I can’t have.”

Olive kept it together. She gave Violet’s shoulder a soft squeeze and said, with all honesty, “I understand.”

~~~~~

 

3\. **Text Message from Olive:** Meet me out front. Wear coat mittens scarf hat etc

 **Text Message from Violet:** its too cold

 **Text Message from Olive:** bundle up and trust me

Violet sighed and slowly walked downstairs. 

A few minutes later, packed tightly in knitted protection, she opened the front door to see Olive standing there with a grin and a sled.

“Seriously?”

“This is a superb idea,” Olive stated with confidence. 

“Where did you even get that?” Violet asked.

“This kid who lives two streets down let me borrow it.”

“You’re a grown woman who asks neighborhood children if you can borrow their toys?”

“Maturity is a social fiction.”

“Gravity, on the other hand….”

“It’ll be fun.”

“I know what this is,” Violet said.

“It’s a sled.”

“This is Operation Get Violet Out of the House,” Violet said pointedly.

“No. This is Operation Violet and Olive Are Going to Sled Down the Biggest Hill They Can Find Because They’re Total Badasses.”

Violet paused, and Olive added, “I can see the way you’re looking at this sled. You’re tempted.”

Finally, Violet smiled. “Fine. Just once, okay?”

Olive didn’t answer as they began to walk the slippery sidewalk arm in arm, her other hand carrying the sled.

They knew the perfect hill: the tall clear slope at a nearby park. The trek up the hill was difficult in the snow, though, and Olive could hear Violet behind her panting. She forgot sometimes that Violet never hiked. Violet wasn’t from the area and didn’t really grow up doing much outdoors.

When they finally reached the top, they found a launching spot, close enough to the edge that they could slide over but flat enough that they wouldn’t start the descent while they were still struggling to get on the sled. They squeezed tightly together on the wooden surface, with Violet in front, between Olive’s knees. Olive leaned forward and Violet’s back pressed snugly into her. Violet’s hair was right in front of her, and she could smell the shampoo, the earthy scent that filled their shower in the morning. 

“Ready?” Olive said, her mouth close to Violet’s ear.

Violet nodded.

They pushed off. 

Then, _speed._

Nothing but speed and exhilaration and Violet’s hair whipping softly at her face. 

They gave a yowling roller coaster scream, both of them, and Olive could tell that there was joy in Violet’s voice; she could tell that the scream held a laugh that had been a long time coming.

She was just about to feel smug when they hit a bump and went flying off the sled.

Snow, as it turned out, wasn’t quite as soft when you suddenly landed on it.

Olive lay there in the snow. The first thing she felt was complete panic.

She sprang up and looked around and spotted Violet lying there in the snow a few feet over and ran over. 

“Violet! Violet!”

“I’m okay,” Violet answered wearily. “Are you okay? You look okay.”

“I’m fine. I’m – I’m – ” Olive gave up trying to explain, gave up trying to say that she had never been more terrified in her life than when she saw Violet there not moving.

“I can’t believe that happened,” Olive finally said.

“This was exactly what I expected to happen,” Violet said with a raised eyebrow, finally getting Olive to laugh. 

“Let me help you up,” Olive said then.

“Nah. I’m tired. And this is pretty comfortable actually.” Violet continued to lie there in the snow.

“I’m sorry it turned out like this.”

“It’s okay.” Violet lazily moved her arms and legs back and forth in the snow.

“What are you doing?” Olive asked.

“I figure I’m here anyway. Might as well make some snow angels. Easier than getting up, you know?” She smiled and waggled around, her red hair loose and wild beneath the knit hat that Olive had made for her, bright orange flickers against the snow.

Olive shook her head. She was still coursing with adrenaline, with fear, but there was something about Violet making snow angels where she fell, smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks, that was just… unbearably adorable.

Olive plopped down next to her and giggled as she made her own snow angels. 

“Violet?” 

“Yeah?”

“I promise I won’t make you do any more outings you don’t feel like doing.”

Violet stilled. She turned her head to look over at Olive, her face flushed with cold. “Don’t say that. Okay?” The slightest of breaks in her voice.

Olive stared at her, trying to discern something. Finally, she said, with no small degree of irony, “You’re right. I promise to take you on as many ridiculous and dangerous adventures as you’ll let me.” 

Violet smiled, small and grateful, refusing to hear the sarcasm. 

“Good.”

 

~~~~~

4\. Olive wakes up and looks at the clock.

4 AM.

Violet is crying.

She walks over, wondering if Violet is having a nightmare. 

Instead, Violet says, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, go back to sleep. I’ll be quiet,” pushing the words out between the weeping.

Olive sits on the bed next to her. 

Violet says, “I’m fine.” She forces herself to stop crying.

Olive leans over to give her a hug, and Violet starts again, sobbing for real now.

Olive doesn’t tell her that it’s okay. A broken heart isn’t okay.

“It won’t always feel like this,” she says instead, and repeats it, though she doubts Violet hears.

They stay that way for a long time, until Violet is calm. She clings tightly to Olive, who is now lying next to her, stroking her hair. They are silent and still for many minutes.

Olive can feel the moment when Violet starts to drift to sleep. A slight snore begins, the breath hot against Olive’s neck. 

Olive gets up and returns to her own bed. Her steps feel heavy.

In her sleep Violet mumbles, “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave….”

Olive knows that this dreaming plea is not intended for her.

Still, as Olive gets into her own bed, she whispers her answer.

“I won’t.”

She doesn’t care anymore if she’s pathetic. Love isn’t supposed to be dignified.

 

~~~~~

 

5\. “I think I should go stay with my family for a while,” Violet said one day.

Olive put her coffee down abruptly. “Why?”

“I need some space. To forget. It’s like everywhere I go in this town, I’m reminded.”

“Right. Right. But do you really want to leave all your friends? And work?”

“Work is fine. I’m mostly doing online and skype stuff all day anyway.”

“But won’t you miss… you know? The fresh air? The mountains?”

“They have air where I’m from, believe it or not. I mean, yeah, I’ll miss things. But it’s like… I just feel like… I’m sinking. You know?”

Olive’s face fell. “Yeah. I get it. Definitely.”

“I might move back here after a while.”

“Might?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Look, I’ll take my stuff. I understand if you want to find another roommate.”

“Oh. Um, I’m actually okay on money right now. Surprisingly. So, you know, if you want a place to come back to….”

“Really?” Violet said.

“Yeah. Of course. I mean the heater’s crap and the bedroom is small and the cable sucks but, you know….”

Violet smiled. “I’ve always loved this house.”

“Good. So you know, any time you feel like coming back….” Olive willed herself to stop, to sound less needy.

“Right. Thanks.”

“Are you going soon?”

“Not too soon. But I want… to get out of here. You know?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re moving on. I’m really happy for you.”

Violet smiled slightly, as if she didn’t at all believe that anything could help her move on, that all she was doing was lessening the pain.

A week later she moved out.

On her first night alone, Olive lay in her room staring at the ceiling, thinking of all the time they had spent together. 

The times they had laughed. The times they were miserable, when they clung to each other like a raft in a storm. 

She thought of the scent of Violet’s sweet shampoo lingering around the house. The crooked corners of the cakes that Violet tried to bake. The elaborate and hilarious fictions Violet would invent to distract telemarketers from their hard sell. The books strewn everywhere around the house, floors and chairs and even on top of the refrigerator, always bookmarked neatly with plaid ribbon. The image Violet tossing the couch cushions on the floor as she burrowed to find her glasses which were sitting on her head.

She thought of the warmth of Violet’s hand, small and strong, when she squeezed Olive’s hand to say _Good morning_ or _Good night._

Olive closed her eyes and tried to count her favorite memories. She tried desperately to remember them more vividly, as if she could grasp them tightly enough to relive each one.

She opened her eyes and looked over to the empty bed. She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

~~~~~

_And one time Violet knew exactly what to say:_

Three months after she moved out, Violet showed up on Olive’s doorstep.

“You said I could come back?” she said with a hopeful smile.

“Right,” Olive said, trying to recover from the surprise. 

“Sorry I didn’t call.”

“No. No. Come in.” Olive reached over to help her with her luggage and they came inside.

“Flowers are coming out,” Violet said, gesturing at the early spring blooms in Olive’s window.

“Yeah.” Olive still felt thrown for a loop.

“So... the thing is, I was miserable at home,” Violet said.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“And every day I felt worse. It was terrible.”

“Oh.”

“And then I figured something out, and it made me feel a lot better,” Violet said, and she watched Olive closely.

“What?”

“It wasn’t my ex that I was missing.”

“Oh,” Olive said.

Violet was looking at her, nervous.

 _Oh._ “You mean -- I mean, are you… are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I wanted to tell you in person.” Violet looked at her, eyes full of hope.

“But are you sure?”

“You asked that already,” Violet said with half a laugh. When Olive continued to stare at her in surprise, Violet added, “So… I was thinking that maybe… maybe you felt the same way?” Olive could see Violet’s breath quicken, anxious. Afraid, of all things.

Olive smiled, a breath gushing out of her. “Definitely.”

Violet sprang on her then, surprising her again, a collision followed by a kiss. It was messy and wet and awkward and uncertain and entirely, entirely perfect. 

When they finally parted, Olive stepped back and looked her, barely believing it. She smiled at her and Violet smiled back, a question in her eyes. Olive gently brushed aside a strand of hair out of Violet’s face. She said, “You know what, Violet? I think you’re really going to like it here in spring.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to renee-chan for such lovely and open ideas in her request. The prompt was: "For some reason, I watched that video and read the lyrics and I just fell in love with the two little stop motion people. They're so adorable together and I want to know more about them. I have this mental image of them cuddled up in front of a fireplace, snuggling in blankets and pillows and drinking hot apple cider. Maybe one of the girls is pining for a lost love and the other girl is pining for her. Maybe the pining girl one day realizes that what she's been looking for has been in her house and in her arms this whole time. Maybe once she has that realization, that's when the spring comes and the two live happily ever after. I don't know. But I think they're adorable and I'd love to see them snuggling. Bonus if a fireplace and cuddly winter traditions are involved."


End file.
